


We Won't Let That Stand (Let's Lie Down Together)

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gangbang, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Magical Healing Cock, Magical Healing Vagina, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, OT6, Past Abuse, Sexual Dysfunction, Shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner's abusive past left him broken as an omega - most people assume he's a beta, and he doesn't enlighten them unless they ask.  He's never seen the point, because who would want an omega that couldn't even really go into a proper heat?  When Steve finds Bruce taking care of his own needs, he's horrified that any omega wouldn't be taken care of during his heat, barren or no.  The rest of the Avengers won't let that stand either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Won't Let That Stand (Let's Lie Down Together)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt at avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17385.html?thread=39301353#t39301353) \- basically same as the summary.
> 
>  
> 
> **This story does contain a fairly graphic flashback of child abuse, so if this could be triggery, scroll past the italicized section.**
> 
>  
> 
> Aside from that, it's a stupidly fluffy gangbang. I mean saccharinely sweet and fluffier than a fluffy unicorn cavorting through a cloud after going through a dryer cycle. Except with an A/B/O orgy thrown in. Like you do.

“Bruce?”

Bruce started at the knock on his door and guiltily took his hand away from his dick, breathing out a long sigh of embarrassment. He took a few seconds to focus, pushing down the arousal he’d let mount as far as he was able to. He’d been hoping for a quick finish, quelling his remaining hormonal swings in less than a day – he had things he needed to do in the lab and there had never been much of a point in drawing out his pathetic excuse for a heat. 

“Just give me a minute, I’m in the bathroom!” he called. A damp cloth removed the traces of lube he’d been using and settled his erection enough that he could pull on his pants without too much trouble. A few deep breaths helped him center; the hard-won self-control he’d practiced over the years let him pretend there was nothing at all wrong.

 _And nothing is,_ he told himself firmly. If he repeated that enough, he was certain to believe it. He’d certainly done it enough over the years that it had become second nature.

He opened the door and blinked a little at seeing Steve, hand raised for another knock, eyes going wide at the sight of Bruce. “Ah… assembly?” Bruce asked, wondering what on Earth could have induced Steve to seek out Bruce’s company otherwise.

“I’d have used the PA…” Steve said, looking somewhat stunned. His nostrils flared slightly, and Bruce grimaced in apology. He knew his odor was obvious right now; it was why he’d cloistered himself. There was no need to inflict his state on anyone. “Bruce, you’re in _heat?_ ” Steve blurted out.

Bruce flushed and looked down before he mastered the impulse and met Steve’s eyes. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Steve just stared at him like Bruce had spoken Urdu. Actually, Bruce quickly reviewed the conversation to make sure he _hadn’t_ accidentally slipped into another language until Steve recovered his power of speech.

“But you’re alone,” Steve said, emphasizing the last word with incredulity. “I- I thought you were a beta. If I’d known, if I’d had any idea… Oh, I’m an idiot. You’re waiting for your partner, right? I’m so sorry, look I’ll just leave you two alone-.”

Bruce cut off Steve’s panicked babble before he could shove his foot any further down his throat. “No, no partner. I was just…” Bruce bit the bullet and made a subtle obscene gesture, one he was absolutely certain both Tony and Clint had made sure Steve knew the meaning of (if he hadn’t already), to indicate he was taking care of his own problem.

“Is that a thing now?” Steve asked, brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Sorry, I’ve read a lot of conflicting information.”

Bruce shrugged, all too used to Steve asking him for straight answers. Sometimes Tony was a little too fond of being clever. “Not unheard of.”

“But I’ve never noticed you being gone for more than two days,” Steve said, looking Bruce over in a way that sent a tiny, inappropriate thrill down his spine. He wasn’t used to people _missing_ him, instead of just hunting him down as a matter of course. And he definitely wasn’t used to looks of concern off the battlefield and when not in the middle of a possible incident. 

“That’s all I need at most.”

Steve got a blank look on his face again. “What?” He actually physically shook himself back to awareness before he could say anything else. “Two days? Bruce, that’s… I’ve never heard of an omega needing only two days.”

“I barely qualify,” Bruce said, giving a close approximation of an airy wave, trying to look nonchalant. “I had an accident when I was younger; I can’t even conceive and my heats are nothing to write home about. Don’t worry about me.” 

Bruce thought he’d done that well; he’d certainly practiced that line enough to be convincing to anyone else who’d ever asked about his gender, if they even noticed he wasn’t a beta. But when he saw Steve’s face fall, he remembered, too late, that Steve Rogers was one of the few people who’d seen his full file. 

“Bruce, you don’t have to lie,” he said softly.

\--

_“God damn it, Rebecca! If you can’t keep that boy in line, I will!”_

_Brian Banner’s customary angry roar penetrated the blankets and pillows Bruce had pressed to his head to drown out the noise. At age twelve, he was an expert in trying to ignore his father’s tirades, but he couldn’t ignore the twisting in his guts, the slick moisture trickling out of his butt, and his penis having a mind of its own. He pressed one hand to his stiffened organ, trying to make it go down, and cupped the other against his soaked underwear, trying not to mess the sheets. He burrowed deeper under the blankets and tried to stifle moans of pain confused with strange shocks of pleasure. He’d been sent home from school when it had started, and that had put Dad in a really bad mood._

_Dad yelled for a long time, Mom making very quiet, meek responses in agreement when she said anything at all. He could hear her voice closer, and knew she was keeping herself between Dad and his bedroom. Bruce shook and felt tears running down his cheeks when he heard Dad slap her, and if he hadn’t been doubled-up in pain, would have tried to run to her rescue. He tried anyway, but only ended up on the floor, groaning and curled up in a ball._

_Finally Dad seemed to wind down, and Bruce heard a beer can opening and the TV turn on. He relaxed, knowing Dad only went back to his football games when he felt he had won something. The front door opened and shut, but Bruce barely heard it, he was concentrating so hard on trying to get all of his parts to start working again. He groaned into the wood floor and muffled himself on his shoulder. All the teachers at school in sex ed had made heat sound weird, but natural. This didn’t feel natural at all – Bruce would have given anything to stop the churning in his stomach and feeling like he was peeing out of his butt and his penis just not settling down no matter what he did. He smelled weird too, like those perfumes and colognes in the drug store that some people bought, the bottles that had half-naked pictures on them._

_The door to his bedroom suddenly banged open, and Bruce started upright, wincing as that pulled at his upset guts and dragged slick-soaked cloth against his over-sensitive genitals. Brian Banner’s massive frame filled the doorway, and an empty beer can clattered to the floor as Dad’s breathing went into the harsh, fast patterns that meant Bruce was in for it._

_“You little shit!” Dad roared, taking two strides into the room and hauling Bruce up by the collar. His stubbled face grimaced at the thick smell and Bruce’s disheveled appearance. “God damn, you’re a fucking mess. Look at all this you little freak!” He dropped Bruce heavily to the floor, shoving his face in the smear of slick on the wood, then hauling him up and half-smothering him by shoving him face-first into the moist mattress. Dad hauled him upright again and slammed a fist into Bruce’s already painfully sensitive gut. Bruce blanched with the pain, all his breath driven out of him by a blow he’d always been able to take before. He hung limp in Dad’s grasp as the hits kept coming. After three, he went numb. Blessedly, after that, he lost consciousness._

_He came to in the euphoric haze of hospital drugs, his mother’s sobbing in his ears as she gently held his hand and whispered her apologies, how Brian had gotten her out of the house and how she would have never left if she thought he hadn’t calmed down and could Bruce every forgive her… Bruce squeezed her hand when he opened his eyes a slit, seeing touches of powder and makeup on her face that meant she was hiding bruises too._

_They sat together quietly as Dad and the doctor talked just outside of the curtain, a few phrases making themselves known through the confusion of drugs and pain. “...got caught by some kids, some of those damn delinquent gang kids when he was coming home from school. They jumped him, and he didn’t get a good look at them,” Dad was saying._

_“I’m afraid the police haven’t found them yet,” the doctor said, sounding remorseful. “Mr. Banner, I have more bad news. The beating caused significant damage to your son’s developing reproductive system. The fact that he was in heat when he was attacked only compounded the consequences. I don’t believe he will ever be the same…”_

_Bruce drifted away as his mother’s sobbing took over, swallowing past the lump in his throat and feeling tears spilling over his cheeks._

\--

“It was a long time ago,” Bruce said, just as gently. “If I tell people about it, it makes them more uncomfortable than me. No one else needs to carry around my history.” He had the Hulk to do that for him, for better or for worse, and he’d had plenty of time to learn to accept that.

Steve looked a little abashed, but got a sudden determined expression on his face. “Why hide yourself away? You deserve so much more than just having to do all the work yourself.” He reached out and cupped Bruce’s face between his hands lightly, leaning in to kiss him. Bruce was so surprised he let it happen, Steve’s mouth firm and hot against his own.

“You deserve more,” Steve said when he pulled back, putting his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You need someone to look after you when you’re like this. You need someone telling you-.” Steve leaned in and punctuated every word with a hot kiss down the line of his jaw and neck, “How beautiful, how amazing you are. How good you look, smell, how good you feel, how you move-.”

Bruce pulled out of Steve’s grip with an effort of will, bewildered. Was Steve actually offering what Bruce thought he was offering? The sentiment was old-fashioned, endearing so, but why in the world would Steve put effort into courting _him?_ He had more problems than any ten normal people, and any two other Avengers. (Bruce felt confident in saying that because he had a literal alter-ego, so could win that contest hands-down.) Besides, Steve had some sort of arrangement with Clint and Natasha, and who in their right mind, even Captain America, would leave their arms to look after one broken omega? Steve was just that good of a person, but Bruce didn’t want to get in the way of what had to be a good thing Steve had going on.

“It’s all right,” Bruce said, trying to soothe Steve’s sense of righteousness. He ignored the way his skin tingled where Steve had kissed him, and tried to will away the stirring erection his gentle touch had caused. “You don’t have to. I’m not missing anything; I never had anyone do anything like that for me. I’ve never really had a decent heat, so it’s not like I need it, right? I’ll be fine.” Bruce smiled at him a just a little, enough to show he was at least pleased that his friend had missed him and sought him out, but not trying to look as if he were making an invitation. He didn’t want Steve to get the idea that he was desperate.

“Maybe you don’t need it,” Steve said, reaching for Bruce again, slowly this time, and Bruce let his hands settle on his shoulders, strong and warm. “But I think you deserve it. You’re our friend.” A kiss, soft as rain, then hard until Bruce was breathless. “You’re in heat.” Steve’s hands slid to his waist and just under the tail of his shirt, skimming his skin and making Bruce catch his breath. “And you deserve everything.”

Bruce opened eyes he didn’t remember shutting, Steve’s face a breath away from his own. His eyes looked incredibly blue, and his alpha musk was warm and utterly intoxicating.

“‘ _Our_ friend?’” Bruce repeated, part of Steve’s statement bringing him up short. Steve gave him a sly smile and looked up at the ceiling.

“JARVIS, would you ask the Avengers to assemble in the lounge and open up the sofa bed, please?”

Bruce was pretty sure his jaw would have dropped if he hadn’t caught it. Steve was asking everyone to… For him. Steve was _asking_ for him. Everything must have shown in his expression, and Steve suddenly looked very fierce as he kissed the living daylights out of him. With a quick shift of his arms, he had Bruce’s feet wrapped around his waist and was carrying him out of his floor and off to the plush lounge.

Bruce made a few half-hearted protests, each one met with a hotter and deeper kiss until Bruce was just hanging on for dear life, his erection pressing against Steve’s abs through their clothing. Steve only broke apart once he laid Bruce down on the bed, and hesitated for the only time in Bruce’s experience.

“All right?” he asked, his hands poised above the buttons on Bruce’s shirt. Bruce checked himself, and found the distant angry corner of his mind still firmly barricaded, and his own desire and arousal growing stronger than he’d felt in years. He felt… safe, protected. He nodded, and let himself surrender. 

Steve made short work of his shirt, and Bruce smiled a little at the relative novelty of being shirtless in front of someone else without having ripped it asunder by the Hulk. Steve leaned in to kiss the upturned corner of his lips, his hands carding through the thick hair on Bruce’s chest, flexing against his skin with a small noise of appreciation.

“That’s a pretty sight.” 

Bruce heard Clint’s voice practically in his ear, but didn’t jump, just melted into his grip as those callused hands cradled his head and threaded through the strands. Unerringly they sought out the remaining tense places where his headaches tended to pull and soothed them away. Bruce blinked his eyes open to see Clint smiling down at him, those eyes focused on him with the laser intensity he used when choosing the perfect target.

Natasha’s smaller hand slid along his ribs, tickling in the good way, and worked around to his pants, gently cupping his erection. He pressed obediently into her touch, everything feeling so much better with more hands on him, and let out a soft cry when Thor chuckled in delight at his reaction.

“Yeah, what you said,” Tony’s voice said, and two pairs of hands suddenly attacked his pants, pulling them off of him and leaving him naked and exposed to all of their gazes. Natasha’s hand returned to caressing his cock, now hard as it had ever been, and what had to be Tony and Thor’s hands started to glide up his thighs.

God, everyone was here. Everyone had come for him. 

“Not dreaming, Banner,” Tony said, seeming to read his mind. His hands caressed the softer skin of Bruce’s inner thigh, making him relax almost voluntarily, while Thor just rumbled in wordless appreciation, nuzzling at the sensitive juncture of his belly.

“Definitely not,” Steve echoed.

“Wait,” he said quietly, not sure they’d hear him. “Just hang on a second.” Everyone stopped, and Clint propped Bruce up so he could see them. He had to struggle to keep his eyes open, wanting to close them to focus on the glorious sensations they were awakening in him. He’d never felt like this, not even with Betty, but it had been so long since anyone had known, _known_ , about his past and been willing to look past even the smallest part of it… 

“Not enjoying?” Natasha asked, squeezing him lightly, and Bruce actually laughed.

“I am, I am, but, I just-.” He stopped as an unexpected wave of warmth made him moan. “I don’t have-.” He had to swallow. “I’ll need lube. I don’t really… I’ve never really done much of this. I’m not really normal-.”

“You were throwing a pity party jerk-off for one?” Tony’s eyes went steely, and he turned and rummaged through the cabinet until he came up with a bottle in a lurid shade of purple. “Criminal, Bruce. If I had had any idea you were being a sexual martyr we would have dragged you off to bed individually or in teams a hell of a long time before this.” And right now Bruce was wishing he had – Tony and Clint were both betas, and they got more action in two months than Bruce had in twenty years. If he just had realized that they didn’t care about his damaged dynamic…

“We owe you a debt of gratitude for bringing this injustice to our attention, Steven,” Thor said solemnly, taking the bottle with the gravity he used when handling Mjölnir. Steve had a quick, whispered conversation with the others, and Thor nodded with a huge smile on his face when Tony and Clint nodded at him. He upended the bottle and spread some of the slick inside on his hand. Tony descended on Bruce’s chest to join Steve in running his hands through the wealth of hair, his lips latching unerringly onto one of Bruce’s peaked nipples. Bruce looked down at Steve and Tony, one blond head, one dark, both slowly driving him insane, and groaned in helpless pleasure. Clint let him down slowly and closed in for a kiss, powerful and focused, burying Bruce’s insecurities with his passion.

Thor turned Bruce’s groan into gasp when his huge slick hand slid down his thigh, a fingertip pressing just lightly at his hole. He teased carefully, easing the ring of muscle open, and Bruce spread himself to give him easier access.

The more Thor rubbed, the easier it became to penetrate him. For a minute Bruce thought it was just the higher-grade slick, but as Thor opened him up more, it was clear there was more than just outside assistance. Bruce was so hot, so open, Thor was actually coaxing some of his own juices out of him. Bruce’s eyes actually rolled back into his head when Thor returned with two thick fingers, drenched with slick, the way now open and easier to take. The penetration felt incredible, and Bruce felt a rising, frantic desire he didn’t think he’d ever experience.

“Please, now,” Bruce begged, his head going back as Clint gripped his hair to get a better angle on his jaw, his lips sliding down his throat. “Thor, please. In me.” He hadn’t begged in years, but wouldn’t let pride get in the way of this feeling. Thor didn’t tease him a second longer, just slicked himself up and pushed in, slow but relentless. Bruce felt his breathing go harsh and frantic as he tried to shove himself down, go faster, lost in the feeling of a powerful alpha, a friend, making a claim on his body. “Please, please, please…” he whispered, not even sure what he was asking for. He got it nevertheless as everyone helped shift him, his thighs over Thor’s shoulders, the others bracing him as they caressed his body like he was the most desirable thing in the world. He could only hold onto them as Thor pulled back and pushed in again, setting up a rhythm that had Bruce making unintelligible noises punctuated by gasps as Clint or Tony or Steve did something to bring everything just a little higher.

“Bruce.” Steve’s voice was in his ear, Bruce floating with pleasure, and he struggled to nod that he understood. “Thor’s so close; he’s going to knot. Do you want that?”

For an answer Bruce dug his heels into Thor’s back, and someone, probably Tony, laughed in delight.

Thor rumbled something incomprehensible and used his hands on Bruce’s ass to pull him close as his knot grew, locking him together with an alpha for the first time in his life. Bruce actually felt something inside him shift, like a dislocated joint sliding into place, and reveled in the feeling of completion as Thor gently shifted his knotted cock just a little bit deeper.

“Oh fuck, get pictures,” Tony said, as a light touch descended on Bruce’s neglected cock. He’d been riding the edge of orgasm for so long, he hadn’t even realized no one had been touching it. Bruce’s eyes flew open in shock when he realized he’d been missing Natasha, right before she sank back onto him. With his thighs over Thor’s shoulders, she had to be bracing herself on Tony and Steve in a pose worthy of an acrobat. They must look like some fascinating electron chain with all their strange connections, and Bruce nodded in fevered agreement for _somebody_ to immortalize the moment.

Natasha didn’t move much, just squeezed him and rolled her hips in tiny circles, perfectly complimenting the throb of Thor’s knot inside him. Bruce actually stopped breathing for a second when he came, the pounding tide of pleasure crashing through him from both Natasha around him and Thor inside him, spiked with everyone else touching his body. Clint swore quietly as Bruce shuddered through his orgasm, his hips rutting into the bed, while Natasha said a single frantic word in Russian as Tony leaned over to give the lady a helping hand. Steve descended to kiss Bruce, his lips feeling hot enough to burn, a glorious fire that helped stoke Bruce’s heat, once almost non-existent, into an inferno.

\--

The cool water felt marvelous washing away the sweat of what had been a very lively night. Bruce opened his eyes, blinking dumbly into Steve’s gaze as he finished wiping away the worst of the mess and tossed the cloth away. Steve was solid warmth in front of him, and someone else was at his back, the heavily-muscled arm over his middle showing it was Clint’s. When Bruce stirred, Clint nuzzled the back of his neck sleepily. One could possibly even say preened, if they wanted to get shot with a “stray” arrow. 

“’S awake,” Clint mumbled, tightening his grip slightly. Bruce blushed just a little, remembering that after Thor had finally pulled away, there hadn’t been more than a moment that he hadn’t been filled. The long-delayed full heat had demanded all the skills his friends could muster, skills that they’d enthusiastically employed at Bruce’s urging. He’d felt Clint’s steady, dedicated fucking that played him like an instrument, and Tony’s rather inventive athletic positions that had discovered a couple new erogenous zones. And Steve had just wrapped himself around Bruce like he’d never let go, solid, pure protection that had set one or two old ghosts to rest. And Natasha, she’d been everywhere, a lithe and sometimes unexpected compliment to the whole experience, a soft and feminine grace he hadn’t been sure he’d been allowed to touch, until she encouraged him to explore.

He hadn’t been sure what she had called him when he was drifting off to sleep, his Russian wasn’t that good, but the soft smile on her face had called up an echoing one on his.

“Hey, Bruce,” Steve said, tucking himself a little closer and dropping a kiss on Bruce’s forehead.

“I think… I think it’s over,” Bruce said. He felt utterly languid and deliciously sated, unwilling to get up from the warmth all around him, but not sure how long his welcome was extended. The tug of need he’d been experiencing was finally gone. 

“Yeah. So?” Clint said into the back of Bruce’s neck, clearly not interested in moving any more than Bruce was. Bruce felt his heart contract as Steve tilted his chin up for a proper kiss, his hand threading through Bruce’s sweat-soaked locks.

“The others are out on a call, but it wasn’t worth all of us leaving you. Believe me, JARVIS is keeping us updated on how fast they’re pulverizing these morons, because everyone was pissed someone had the poor timing to interrupt us.”

“Assholes,” Clint muttered.

“They’re coming back now, Captain Rogers. The miscreants are in SHIELD custody as we speak,” JARVIS said suddenly. “Master Stark has indicated there will be food arriving shortly and that, and I am tasked to quote this directly, ‘It is guaranteed to raise all sexual energy levels.’”

“Ten bucks says Natasha says she doesn’t need it,” Clint said with a trifle more animation and an audible smirk.

“Had anyone taken it, you would have won, Agent Barton. Everyone is coming directly here.”

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Steve said, and Bruce tilted his head up to look at him. 

“Why didn’t you both go? I’d have been fine,” Bruce said, and caught his breath as Clint’s grip firmed around him and Steve pressed the length of his body to his.

“I told you, we wouldn’t leave you alone. Nothing was worth leaving you alone-.”

“Except an alien invasion,” Bruce pointed out. Steve reluctantly acceded that point.

“But nothing else. You just got over your heat; what kind of people would leave you alone?” Steve looked positively fierce, and Bruce pushed up to kiss his anger away, turning to tame Clint’s scowl a moment later.

“Not you,” Bruce said, meaning it, and smiled beatifically as the door opened to reveal the rest of his friends, coming for him straight from the battlefield. “I know you wouldn’t.”


End file.
